


what's wrong, let me fix that

by plaidcest



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: ;), BAMF!Stiles, Derek / Stiles - Freeform, M/M, Season 3a - Canon Divergence, Spark!Stiles, but im a butt, if Juli doesn't kill me first, maybe later - Freeform, nearly smut, so no smut for you, you dirty dirty fans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-03
Updated: 2014-11-03
Packaged: 2018-02-23 23:14:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2559338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plaidcest/pseuds/plaidcest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“How… how bad?”</p><p>“Well y’know. I mean, I suppose it could be worse? I know for a fact that there was no wolfsbane near you, so…” Stiles swallows and his hands flutter uselessly above the wounds, not knowing what to do first, “the black blood is definitely not from that. And you’re bones have healed, but they’ve taken up so much energy that nothing else seems to want to.” He glances back up at Derek’s face only to notice that his eyes are shut, and his breathing has slowed down to nearly nil. “Derek? Derek! Don’t die on me now dude!”</p><p>He pats Derek’s face frantically, scared that he’s going to have to punch Derek again like he did when Derek had been shot with the wolfsbane bullet, Derek coughs for a second at a slap that Stiles had put slight pressure behind.</p><p>“Don’t call me dude.” The sentence is broken by labored breaths and Derek winces after words like the words cost him serious energy and Stiles lets out a broken sounding laugh, his head slumping down and his forehead resting in the middle of Derek’s chest, right over his heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	what's wrong, let me fix that

**Author's Note:**

> Tonight - John Legend ft. Ludacris 
> 
> ______________________________________________________

Stiles’ alarm goes off at ass-o’clock in the morning and he groans as he blindly reaches out in the darkness to turn it off. His body aches and he knows that he’d really only been asleep for a little while, maybe forty-five minutes. Last night had definitely not gone as planned.

The fight against Deucalion and his Beta-Alpha’s was a terrible one and they were woefully unprepared to go against them. Scott had tried to keep Stiles out of the entire thing, going so far as to even hold a moonlit-midnight meeting at Derek’s loft with Boyd, Peter, Cora, and Derek himself. Stiles is lucky that Derek had called him just before Scott had arrived and he’d left his phone on in his pocket so Stiles could hear every word, though he was careful to not say anything and be found out.

Really, Scott should know better by now; you can’t keep anything from the great Stiles Stilinski.

He’d held the phone tightly against his ear when Scott first walked in with information that Derek and everyone else had already learned – Stiles had suggested they follow the twins after school and they’d found out that everyone was living literally right above the Argents, Stiles didn’t know if Deucalion was either a complete idiot or a complete genius – Peter answering Scott’s question with Stiles exact words from earlier that day.

“The schemers are scheming.” His upper lip had twitched back in a silent snarl. He still really wished someone would kill Peter; again. He’d listened as they all talked about the plan for a while and rethought over all that had happened to lead up to this.

~

The beginning of summer had begun with Derek Hale knocking at his door, face weary and eyes underlined with dark bags, his stubble unruly but still highly attractive. Isaac was standing a little ways behind him and all they’d had to say was “Erica and Boyd are missing” and he was in. He recognized why Derek had come to him first, after the betrayal of Scott and being left out of his big major plan surrounding Gerard and the kanima Stiles didn’t really know if he should trust his best friend either.

They’d spent all summer exhausting all their resources and following even the smallest trails. Stiles had confronted Chris Argent and Deaton and was now learning how to control his spark powers and all that that entailed, as well as studying and compiling his own bestiary from the Argent personal information and the Hale personal information. Stiles was surprised that Scott hadn’t really tried to contact him all summer, he was also surprised that Scott didn’t seem to notice how much thicker his scent was around the animal clinic. When school started back up Scott didn’t seem to notice how his scent was now woven in with Derek’s pack.

Stiles had waited until Scott had left before speaking into the phone.

“You all know he’s just going to try to reason with Deucalion by himself right?” He listened as Derek pulled his phone out of his pocket and set it on speaker.

“What makes you say that?” Cora asked and Stiles rolled his eyes.

“I’ve known him since third grade, just trust me. Someone has to talk to Isaac, make sure he sticks to Scott’s side. I’ll talk to Allison; see if I can convince her to help out. He’s going to want to go tonight and I’ve already been talking to Allison and keeping her updated while she was over in France.” Stiles can almost see them all sharing a hostile look. “Oh come on, stop being assholes and just do this. We don’t have much time.” Without another word he’d hung up and began dialing Allison’s number.

~

Stiles stretched his neck from side to side and sat on his bed for a moment. His eyes watered with exhaustion and some unidentifiable feeling that sat heavy in his gut. He should probably take a shower, he was still covered in debris from the mall, but he couldn’t find the power in him to start moving. He could hear his father’s snores through the walls if he listened hard enough.

~

Stiles and Allison shared twin silent looks while they listened to the conversation inside. They’d just arrived to the abandoned mall, Stiles got his magic ready and Allison pulled an arrow from her quiver and notched it on the string between her sure fingers. She took a deep breath and nodded at him and he nodded back. They went in quieter than air, a few runes printed onto their skin to make them undetectable to the keen senses of even the largest group of wolves. They walked to the edge of a ledge and Allison aimed her bow and pulled back on the arrow, staring at her target before shooting the arrow.

It hit one of the side pillars and exploded into sparks and Stiles used the initial distraction to focus his energy and make the sparks last as long as they could without lighting anything on fire. He focused on making the ground unstable underneath Deucalion’s Beta-Alpha’s and everyone was in a frenzy to cover their eyes. “Cover your eyes!” Deucalion snarled from his position on the old escalator and Stiles felt his upper lip pull back in a silent snarl at the sight of the douchebag. This was the man who killed Erica.

Stiles stepped back from the edge when Allison stopped firing, so as to hide from Scott’s view and try to find a different vantage point. Derek and Cora helped Boyd get up and out of the way and Scott, the idiot, tried to go after Ennis on his own. Stiles watched as they ran towards each other with rapt attention, a thunderous noise echoing along the empty halls when they finally collided. Stiles’ eyes widened as he watched Scott’s eyes flicker from gold to a bright and terrifying red and automatically pages upon pages of information on true alpha’s are flicking hectically behind his eyes. Scott blinks and his eyes change back to gold, no one seems to have noticed the change in the first place.

Stiles almost completely missed Derek’s return but he focuses as Derek lands an attack on Ennis’ back. Allison joins him from his new vantage point and they watch the fight with rapt attention. Allison has another arrow notched and ready, but Stiles holds his hand out and so she doesn’t shoot. They’re too close and Ennis keeps turning Derek so that he’s a human shield between Allison and himself. Scott manages to crawl forward and slash at the back of Ennis’ knee and Stiles heartbeat speeds up as they get closer and closer to the edge of the main floor. One wrong move and they could tumble over and become wolf pancakes on the bottom floor.

 _“Stiles!”_ Allison’s voice is sharp and he hisses.

 _“I know! I know! They’re too close. If I try to hit one I might hit the other!”_ He tries to put a protective shield around Derek and it seems to work as Derek finds the power to start pushing Ennis over the edge. It doesn’t work for long though and Ennis keeps a tight hold to Derek. They seem to slip over the side in slow motion and Stiles catches Derek’s eyes. They seem terrified even from this distance and Stiles heart leaps into his throat. He dashes forward only for Allison to grab his arm and pull him back, he’d nearly toppled over the edge of the top floor.

He hears the sound of them both colliding with the escalator and his entire body pulses with a sick feeling. He feels his empty stomach heave and he turns back to see Isaac pulling Scott away from the ledge.

~

Stiles eyes are blurred and there’s a rushing noise in his ears and when his eyes come into focus he can see that his dad is sitting in front of him with a worried expression.

“Stiles? Stiles! Come on, son, breathe. Nice and easy.” Stiles realizes his vision is still blurry around the edges because he’s shaking like he’s in the middle of an earth quake. His breath is coming in short quick succession and his lungs feel completely empty. His dad is holding onto his hands, dressed in his uniform, and Stiles realizes it’s completely light outside now.

Stiles feels his entire body lurch as tears come to his eyes and he clutches his dad’s hands as tightly as he can.

When Stiles is finally able to calm down his entire body feels like death reincarnate. His muscles ache and his head is light and he feels like he’s been run over by a bus. The Sheriff grabs his face and forces Stiles to look into his eyes.

“You are not going on the Cross Country trip.”

“What, Dad. No, I have to-” _keep a look out for Scott, make sure everyone is alright, keep Boyd and Isaac from attacking the twins on the bus in front of tons of people_. The Sheriff raises both eyebrows and gives Stiles an unimpressed look.

“Stiles, you probably can’t even walk right now. You need to rest, you haven’t had an attack in years and you look absolutely terrible.” Stiles’ head lilts to the side and he tries his best to straighten it and give his dad what he hopes is a reassuring and teasing expression.

“You sweet talker, you.” The Sheriff rolls his eyes and gently pushes Stiles back until he’s lying in bed. Stiles let’s his dad coddle him for a few minutes before his dad has to leave and as soon as the sound of the police cruiser fades down the street Stiles sits up – which might not be the best plan because black spots pop up behind his eyes – he checks his phone and sees that Scott has sent him a few texts asking where he is and claiming the bus will be leaving in half an hour. The last one was sent five minutes ago.

He rushes through a shower and getting dressed as best he can on his wobbly legs and he manages to make it to his jeep with only a few additional bruises littering his skin from when he’d slightly slipped on the stairs and when he’d run into the coffee table on his way out of the kitchen. He speeds down the roads towards the school, making sure to avoid anywhere he knows there will be patrolling, and ignoring the whites of his knuckles as he clutches the steering wheel like a lifeline.

He manages to pull into the school parking lot just as the bus pulls out, Allison’s car following a few beats later with Allison and Lydia both in the front seats. Stiles rolls his eyes with what little energy he has and pulls into a parking spot so he can look at his phone.

Isaac has texted him saying he’ll try to keep Boyd in check as much as he can, and that he hopes Stiles is okay because he’d known what Stiles was planning to do. Scott sends him a frowny face and Stiles sends a message to Lydia claiming her and Allison aren’t nearly as sneaky as they could be. He’s about to pull back out of the parking lot and head towards the gas station, if he’s missed the bus the least he can do is follow after them and try to make sure things don’t go too awry in any way he can, but a loud sound against his window has him jumping and his blood pumping with adrenaline.

There’s a bloody hand against his window and his eyes follow the arm only to come face to face with none other than Derek Hale.

“Derek!?!?” Derek falls over and immediately is out of Stiles’ line of sight. He struggles to shove the door open and he falls to his knees beside Derek who looks even worse than Stiles feels and _oh my god he’s alive_.

~

Later on he’ll wonder how in the hell he managed it, but he gets Derek into his Jeep and begins driving for Deaton’s only to stop at the end of the street and watch as Kali, one of the twins, and Deucalion drag Ennis through the front doors.

“My place.” Derek whispers so quietly Stiles almost doesn’t hear him and he whips his head to look over at Derek – who is totally bleeding all over his seats and his leg is at an awkward angle like it’s broken, and his ribs don’t look like they’re the right form or shape and Stiles may totally be freaking out again – “My place… safest.”

Stiles doesn’t have the proper state of mind to argue, and he speeds off in the opposite direction of Deaton’s clinic.

~

They make it up to Derek’s loft and Stiles notes that his leg no longer looks to be bent all awkwardly, and his ribs feel straight and proper under Stiles’ steadying hand, but Derek stumbles terribly and his head lolls against Stiles’ shoulder. Stiles helps him hobble along till he can lay down on his bed, set up in the corner of the large open spaced room. Stiles sends a quick prayer of thanks that Derek didn’t put his bed up the small spiral staircase as he moves the blankets and pillows out of the way, so as to keep the blood staining to a minimum.

He swallows thickly and pushes back the spots at the edge of his vision that signify he’s about to faint. Derek is probably dying right now – he should be dead from that fall, how is he even still alive? – Stiles needs to do his best to help him because there is literally no one else here. Derek’s betas are on the bus, Peter is lurking wherever he is, Cora is gone somewhere, and Scott and Allison are both either on the bus or following it, respectively.

He pushes Derek’s torn shirt up towards his neck so he can see the extent of the damage to the area that most of the blood is coming from. There are three large gashes torn from the bottom of his ribs all the way down to the tattered edges of his pants, blood oozing from the wounds in thick black trails, and bruises littering his sides. The bruises pulse in and out of existence, as if his body is trying to heal them but it just doesn’t have the strength to complete the job. There’s one more wound that slashes across the right side of his chest and onto his right bicep, right by his collarbone.

Stiles takes a deep breath and it comes out as a quiet “oh my god” on the exhale.

“How… how bad?” Derek’s breathe is coming in quick small pants and Stiles tries to calm his own breathing and heart rate, knowing that they’re affecting Derek.

“Well y’know. I mean, I suppose it could be worse? I know for a fact that there was no wolfsbane near you, so…” Stiles swallows and his hands flutter uselessly above the wounds, not knowing what to do first, “the black blood is definitely not from that. And you’re bones have healed, but they’ve taken up so much energy that nothing else seems to want to.” He glances back up at Derek’s face only to notice that his eyes are shut, and his breathing has slowed down to nearly nil. “Derek? Derek! Don’t die on me now dude!”

He pats Derek’s face frantically, scared that he’s going to have to punch Derek again like he did when Derek had been shot with the wolfsbane bullet, Derek coughs for a second at a slap that Stiles had put slight pressure behind.

“Don’t call me dude.” The sentence is broken by labored breaths and Derek winces after words like the words cost him serious energy and Stiles lets out a broken sounding laugh, his head slumping down and his forehead resting in the middle of Derek’s chest, right over his heart. It beats against his skull and Stiles feels it when Derek passes out again from pain and exhaustion. He’s still alive though, he’s still alive.

Stiles waits to see if Derek will wake up again to ask him what the hell happened and how he’d even made it to the school. Why hadn’t he come right back here? His loft was closest to the abandoned mall; the school was almost all the way across town. Derek doesn’t wake up though, and Stiles gets nauseated by watching his bruises pulse so he quickly leaves the loft and heads to his jeep. He knows for a fact that Derek has no first aid supplies in that spacious loft of his, because werewolves apparently don’t need anything and they’re completely stupid; Stiles has three first aid kits in his car, just in case the need ever arises. He grabs one of the kits stuffed with normal human emergency supplies and then he also grabs his supernatural supplied one and runs back up to Derek’s floor with weak, harried legs.

~

Stiles stares out the window as the moon rises higher above the horizon. His fingers twitch as he bites at the nails before running both hands through his hair again. Scott had nearly died earlier, not letting himself heal from the wounds he’d gotten from last night, Boyd had almost attacked Ethan on the bus, Cora and Peter were apparently searching for Derek’s body, and Allison had just informed him an hour earlier that the students on the bus were staying at a motel because of a truck accident. Stiles hadn’t told anyone about Derek being alive.

There’s a groan behind him and Stiles freezes, his hands tangled in his hair. He turns around, almost tripping over his own feet to find Derek sitting up; Derek goes to stand and Stiles lurches forward, his arms flailing.

“Whoa now, Sourwolf. That is most definitely the worst thing to do right now.”

“I have… I have to find the others. They think I’m dead.”

“… How do you know I haven’t told anyone that you’re alive?” Stiles hopes to hell that either his heart is steady or that Derek’s supernatural hearing is completely shot. Derek blinks slowly and then raises his eyebrows. “Okay so I didn’t tell them you were alive. Derek, they have more to worry about right now. Trust me. We can tell them when we’re sure you won’t die.”

“They need to know.”

“Oh my god. Do you have any idea how bad you look right now, Derek? You’re still bleeding, and it’s been hours. Alpha wounds don’t even take this long to heal. I don’t know if you’re going to just keel over and die in a second without a moment’s notice. Imagine if we told them you were alive only for you to actually die again, for real this time.” Stiles swallows, trying to rid his throat of the sudden thickness that almost stops his words from forming. He walks over and crouches down in front of where Derek is sitting with his legs over the edge of the bed, giving the wounds a glance.

He’d tried calling Deaton to ask for help but he never got anything other than the answering machine, and he didn’t want to give Derek something that would make the wounds worse so he’d left them alone of both human and supernatural medical supplies.

“Deaton’s not answering his phone, and I have supplies here but I don’t know what to do to help with this Derek. I’m so far out of my league it’s not even funny.” Stiles rests his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands with a sigh.

“I usually don’t need supplies. The only thing that will really help is time.” Stiles’ head snaps up and he glares.

“Don’t you dare give me that bullshit, Derek, not after everything. I’m not stupid.”

“No you’re not stupid, Stiles. But you still don’t know anything.”

_“Excuse me?!”_

“You shouldn’t be here Stiles, why weren’t you on the bus?”

“Why wasn’t I –” Stiles sputters and stares at Derek with an incredulous expression. “Sorry for fucking helping save your ass, again might I add, dude. Don’t know why I even bothered, really, since it keeps coming right back to this.”

“I nearly died Stiles!”

“I THOUGHT YOU _HAD_ DIED YOU ASSHOLE. I HAD A PANIC ATTACK THIS MORNING BECAUSE I COULDN’T HANDLE EVEN THINKING ABOUT YOU BEING DEAD, SO DON’T YOU DARE SAY THAT I SHOULDN’T BE HERE. I HELPED YOU THE ENTIRE SUMMER.” Stiles can feel angry tears prickling behind his eyes and he tries to hold an angry expression but he can feel his nostrils flaring and his lip beginning to tremble.

“Everyone around me… everyone gets hurt.” Derek’s voice is like a whisper in comparison to Stiles’ yelling and Stiles lets out a slightly hysterical laugh.

“So what, you think you can just shove people away and suddenly they’re magically safe? Derek, I knew what I was getting into and I’m still here. I’ve been hurt before because of all this supernatural bullshit and I’ll continue getting hurt because of supernatural bullshit.”

“That’s not what I mean, Stiles.” Derek snaps and Stiles looks up from where he’d been clenching his fists together. He stares into Derek’s eyes and Derek takes a deep breath.

“Stiles, all of… I’m surrounded by death. I shouldn’t have come to you for help.” Stiles shakes his head.

“Shouldn’t have come ever, the first time? This time? When, Derek?” He snarls and they stare at each other. Stiles feels a traitorous tear start sliding down his cheek and he abruptly stands up and turns around, knowing that Derek had already seen it. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, his shoulders hunched, and he swallows. He furiously wipes at his face before turning back around. “There’s two first aid kits by the front door, keep them. One is full of human supplies, the other is full of supernatural supplies.”

“Stiles.”

“I’ll remake another supernatural one –”

“Stiles.”

“I already have another human one in my jeep.”

“Stiles.”

“I’m sorry I ever –”

“STILES!” Stiles stops, his jaw snapping shut, and he glares at Derek who is still seated on the bed looking deathly pale.

“What, Derek?” He snarls and Derek tries to get up once more, Stiles rushes forward and pushes him back down by the shoulders, still worried about the fail wolf, even if he was being a major dick.

Derek looks up and Stiles realizes distractedly that he can see the moon reflected in his eyes. Derek’s bare skin is hot under his touch, and there are no more bruises but the gashes are still wide open. Neither of them move for a moment and Stiles has to look down and away from Derek’s eyes. He can’t be here right now. Not when Derek still doesn’t trust him, even after everything. He makes a move to step back and pulls his hands away only for a hand to clench the front of his shirt.

He looks slowly from the fist, up Derek’s injured arm, up his neck then jaw, all the way to Derek’s eyes. “I never said I wanted you to leave.” Wait. What.

“I… I don’t.” Derek sighs and releases Stiles’ shirt. His hands don’t pull away though, they reach up until Derek winces, Stiles automatically slumps a little further in his stance until Derek’s hands are rested on his cheeks and his eyes are no longer squinted in pain. His fingers feel like they’re burning Stiles skin and he can hardly catch his breath. This entire situation makes no sense. Derek said he shouldn’t be here, yet he doesn’t want him to leave?

“I’m afraid that I won’t be able to protect you. Everyone I care about dies, Stiles.” Stiles can’t help but snort.

“I’m fully capable of protecting myself, Derek. I’m not some Jane Austen novel damsel in distress. I wouldn’t be running with wolves if I didn’t think I couldn’t handle getting into the middle of the fray. I’m not just human, you know that. And I… I’m part of this pack.” Derek’s eyes flash red and Stiles feels a warmth spread through his entire body down to his toes.

Stiles notices in the back of his mind that the entire time he’d been talking he’d been leaning in closer to Derek’s face. Their foreheads are almost touching now and Stiles instinctively glances down at Derek’s lips. He licks his own before looking back up to see Derek tracking the movement of his tongue with rapt attention. He leans in a little closer, watching as Derek leans in slightly and his eyes flutter closed in anticipation.

Derek’s hands have let go of his cheeks and he leans in, their noses brushing, he doesn’t immediately touch their lips together though and they stay frozen for a moment with anticipation burning through their veins. With one last breath he leans in the rest of the way and their lips connect. He pulls away after a moment, his heart beating so erratically in his chest that it’s almost painful.

There’s no movement for a second before Derek surges forward and kisses him, their lips burning hot and it takes only a moment till Stiles reaches forward and puts his hand on Derek’s jaw. One of Derek’s hands latches onto his hip, the other reaching forward and pulling his shoulder so that he’s closer to the bed, his knees come to rest on the bed between Derek’s legs and he latches on with all the strength he has; holding onto Derek like a life line.

Their kissing turns frantic and Stiles tries so hard to be careful of Derek’s wounds but there’s a burning need that has settled deep within his belly. Derek’s hand settles into the hair on the back of Stiles head and his fingers thread through the tangles, tugging Stiles head closer to his and Stiles makes a noise in the back of his throat, pulling away enough to get some space between their lips.

They both gasp for breath and Stiles’ eyes open to see Derek’s eyes closer and his brows furrowed as if he’s in pain. He tries to jump back, scared he’d made the wounds worse but Derek clutches him tightly and doesn’t let him get far. Derek pulls until their foreheads are settled against each other.

“Derek, you’re hurt. I don’t want to –“ Derek’s eyes flash open and they’re burning a bright red. Derek swallows and when he opens his mouth to speak Stiles sees the slight sharpening of Derek’s teeth.

“That’s not… I’m fine, it’s just a little overwhelming.”

“Do you… Do you want me to stop? Why are you shifting? The full moon isn’t even close.”

“It… It’s not the moon. Or anything else like that, this is inside me. The wolf… Most of the time it can’t be differentiated from us. We are both one in the same, but there are certain circumstances where the wolf can have different reactions than we ourselves would have… When the wolf wants to push to the surface and take control.”

Just like in the mall pages of the bestiary flicker behind his eyes, all with the same word plastered on them. All the information and lore that the Hale history could give him.

‘Mate’

Neither of them said the word, Stiles completely floored and Derek struggling for control. Stiles is pretty sure Derek would be running if he wasn’t so injured right now. Stiles grabs Derek’s face between his fingers and stares directly into Derek’s red eyes. He knows that Derek knows that he knows. He leans forward to kiss Derek again and it feels like an answer, slight fangs growing and protruding from Derek’s lips.

“Stiles.” Derek pulls back just a fraction and Stiles huffs. “You’re seventeen.” Stiles rolls his eyes.

“So?”

“I can’t… You’re so young. This is… It’s for life. Once this happens there won’t be anyone else. I can’t take that away from you.”

Stiles looks at Derek for a second before leaning back and putting his hands to the bottom hem of his shirt. He pulls it up and over his head – having left his bloody sweater at the front door and having removed his plaid over-shirt with it – and then dropping it to the floor behind his back. He adjusts his legs so he’s no longer in between Derek’s legs and instead he’s in his lap, his knees bracketing Derek’s thighs. He hooks his arms over Derek’s shoulders and lets his hands hang loosely against Derek’s back.

“You’re taking nothing away from me.”

“Stiles –“ Derek starts but is unable to finish when Stiles leans forwards and pulls Derek’s bottom lip in between both of his. Derek growls and surges forward the short distance to attach their lips tightly together once more and once again they’re clutching at each other tightly, hands flying over smooth skin and Stiles accidently runs his hands over Derek’s chest on his right side, where the smaller of his wounds is/was.

Stiles pulls back and looks down at the completely smooth skin under his hand, the only trace of there being even a slight wound there is the flaky dried blood that splits and flakes off under Stiles hand. He looks down and watches as Derek’s stomach gashes slowly start to stitch together until his sight is obstructed by Derek latching his teeth onto Stiles neck. He sucks on the skin and bites at it, causing Stiles to gasp and arch into the touch, his head falling back and exposing more of his neck.

“Derek you’re healing.” He manages to gasp between breathless moans and Derek makes a noise of acknowledgement but doesn’t stop his ministrations. Stiles’ fingers thread through Derek’s hair and tug on it, forcing Derek to leave Stiles neck and start sucking on his lip instead.

“Derek” Stiles moans and then suddenly Stiles is on his back, the soft bed beneath his back and his eyes staring directly at the roof of Derek’s loft confusedly. “What.” Derek is suddenly hovering over him, all of his cuts and scratches gone and Stiles blinks. Derek grins wolfishly and moves so his hands are on either side of Stiles’ shoulders. He leans down, and kisses Stiles soundly, rolling his entire body so it fits against Stiles’ and grinds their hips together in delicious friction and Stiles’ mouth falls open as his eyes roll shut and he moans loudly.

“Oh holy God.”

Derek noses along his racing pulse and bites on his earlobe, making Stiles arch into his body and dig his nails into the smooth skin of Derek’s back. Derek makes a breathless noise against the side of his face, only for the sound to be interrupted by a cell phone ringing off in the distance. Stiles recognized the ringtone as the one he set for Lydia. He groans and lets his head fall back, his body settling against the bed. Derek nudges at his cheekbone with his nose and starts giving Stiles small pecks on the lips.

“Ignore it.”

“It could be import–“ Derek latches their lips together and licks into Stiles mouth with a practiced ease, as if they’d been doing this for ages instead of a few aching minutes. “Okay yeah, totally ignoring it.” Stiles rushes out as soon as Derek let’s his mouth go. They kiss as if to memorize each other and the phone stops ringing in the background.

“See?” Derek’s statement is interrupted by a new ringtone, this one the one Stiles had set for Allison. His brows furrow and he sits up, Derek settling over his lap.

“I…” Stiles looks away from his dirtied sweater, where his phone is hiding in one of his pockets, and he focuses on Derek’s face. “I think I should answer it.” Derek moves to the side, settling onto the bed beside Stiles and letting him be free to go grab his phone. Stiles takes a moment to lean over and pull Derek in for one more kiss before he scrambles up to grab his phone.

“Allison? What’s up, how is –“

“Stiles, this hotel isn’t normal. There’s something weird going on. All the wolves are acting strange and I don’t know what’s up with Scott but you need to get here as fast as possible. Lydia’s texting you the address and directions to your phone. Please hurry.”

Allison hangs up before Stiles can even get another word in and his phone chimes with Lydia’s message almost right after. He turns back around only to come face to face with Derek who is holding out the shirt he’d tossed to the floor.

“Derek –”

“Later. Let’s go make sure everyone is alright. I’m not dying. I’m not going to die, they have to know I’m alright.”

Stiles bites his lip and opens his mouth to say something, anything really, except Derek leans in and kisses him this time making his knees all weak and wobbly once more. Derek disappears up the stairs, coming back down a second later with a dark shirt now covering his torso and Stiles wants to groan. Derek comes up and grabs the first aid kits before sliding open the door.

“Come on, Stiles.”

“Yeah, yeah. But if you think that when we get back we are not continuing what nearly happened tonight then you are sorely mistaken Sourwolf. I swear to god.”

He closes the door while Derek chuffs quietly behind him and he bites his lip against a smile.


End file.
